Of Daggers
by B. Banana
Summary: Complete, shonen-ai, Vik/Flik. The most useless, vapid piece of Vik/Flik fluff ever written!! Hoorah. Truly, everyone, I'm sorry for this.


"Of Daggers"

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DISCLAIMER: I don't own 'em.

WARNINGS: Shonen-ai. SAP! SAP! SAP! This was an attempt to get out of writer's block, so it might be a little frightening. No, not really. It's just really sappy. But I like it anyway.

NOTE: Wow. This is the most useless piece of fluff I have ever written... including Half Past One. And sappy, oh my. I wouldn't recommend reading it if you can't afford the dental bill later. And I probably screwed the hell out of the timeline with this one. Oh, well. Are there actually people who read and check up about that sort of thing? That's curious. Ahaaha! Well, anyway. This is another Fliktor. I know, I've been on a kick lately. Maybe when classes start again it'll quit. Probably not. I love those two.

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It was that time of year again. The leaves on the trees were turning magnificent shades of red, orange, and yellow, and the air had a slight chill in it. The days were getting shorter and the nights were getting cozier. The skies seemed to be constantly overcast, high gray clouds hiding the clear blue of the sky. It was fall. And that of course meant that soon it would be Flik's birthday.

In 433, Flik was born. It was now 461; Flik was twenty-eight years old. He didn't know how Viktor had found out about his birthday, but he had, making the event all the more dreadful and bothersome. Somewhere in the castle he imagined Tengaar laughing forebodingly. If she hadn't told him, who had? She and Hix were the only two who knew which day the most accursed event fell. The least he could hope for, now, was that the whole castle wouldn't find out.

But if at any time tomorrow a cake was thrust upon him he was going to kill Tengaar, regardless of her gender and young age. There were ways of making it look like an accident. Flik's own eyes narrowed menacingly as he popped his knuckles. Yes, he had his ways.

"What are you doing?" A young voice piped warily. Looking over, Flik saw Futch staring at him with thinly veiled alarm. Flik dropped his hands back onto the table, and with a small cough, said, "Nothing. Isn't Humphrey looking for you?"

"No," Futch answered, but when he caught the dangerous glare Flik was piercing him with, he amended, "but I think that's him calling. See you later, Flik." With the barest hint of a nod, Flik leaned back in his chair, reveling in the now quiet, empty room. There were too many people living in the castle nowadays, Flik thought. One barely had enough time to sit and listen to himself think.

But soon it wouldn't matter; the war would be over in a few days. Even now the preparations were being made to storm L'Renouille. After that, he and Viktor would be free to do whatever they please. Maybe they'd start another band of mercenaries, but Flik doubted it. Viktor wasn't the type of man to do the same thing twice. He'd probably try his hand at treasure-hunting next.

The thought of wandering around aimlessly searching for trinkets made Flik groan. He'd have to talk Viktor out of that one, and quickly. Was it so wrong to want to be stationary? It wasn't like he wanted to settle down with the other man or anything homey like that, it was just...

He must be getting old. Flik leaned forward and rested his head on his folded hands. He sighed, the sound momentarily filling the vacant room. He didn't know _what_ he wanted anymore.

"I'm beginning to think you enjoy your own company," Viktor said, appearing in the doorway. Flik had been facing away and so missed the man's approach. With a snort he replied, "I do enjoy being by myself."

"Is that a hint?" Viktor asked, though he took a seat next to Flik anyway.

"Would it matter if it were?" Flik turned his head so he could look up at the man from where he was resting it on the table. In his voice was the tone of one long suffering, yet he seemed to perk up visibly now that Viktor had arrived. Viktor propped his elbows on the table. "No. No, it wouldn't," he replied with a chuckle.

Flik snorted again and said nothing else. After a few moments' silence between them, Viktor seemed to remember something. He sat up and slapped Flik across the back of his head, hard. "Were you even going to tell me that it was your birthday tomorrow?" Viktor demanded, peeved.

"No." Flik stated calmly, though the blow almost sent him sprawling. "Don't hit me again," he warned. Viktor lowered his raised palm, though he hadn't been planning on striking the other man a second time.

"How long have we been together, Viktor?" The younger man asked, glaring up at him. Viktor counted off years on his hands and settled back in the chair. "Three," he answered.

"And never once have you asked about my birthday, until now. What suddenly made you think of it?" Flik asked, though he already suspected what the answer would be.

"Well, to be honest, Tengaar told me when it was. She asked me if we were doing anything to celebrate." Viktor replied, resting his hands behind his head and looking up at the ceiling. Flik muttered a curse under his breath that Viktor didn't quite catch. "What else did she tell you? My childhood fears, perhaps? Or all the rumors about me back at the Warrior's Village?"

"There were rumors about you? Like what?" Viktor seemed to take a sudden, deep interest in the conversation. "Were you a man of loose morals, Flik? Could I catch something by sleeping with you?"

It was Flik's turn to lash out at the other man, and he did with a well-placed slap that seemed almost familiar and friendly in nature. "Not those kinds of rumors," Flik said with a fake smile. Strangely enough, Viktor seemed disappointed; he sighed.

"What?! Did you want me to be a whore?" Flik wailed incredulously. Leona passed by on her way back to the bar, and, peeking in, just shook her head and continued on her way. 

"Anyway," Viktor continued, mirth dancing in his eyes as he watched Flik's head fall back onto the table in humiliation, "I got you something." Inwardly Flik cursed. He hated receiving gifts. This was exactly the reason why he didn't want Viktor to know about his birthday.

"You didn't have to do that, Viktor," Flik groaned, getting up from the table. _It was just so awkward! _The whole situation made him uncomfortable.

"Well, I did." Viktor said, and picked up a small wooden box from beside him. Flik hadn't noticed it until now. "Here." Viktor handed him the gift, smiling jovially as he did.

Flik stared at the box with barely concealed dread. What if he didn't like it? Could he lie to Viktor? Looking over at the other man, whose face was earnest and happy, Flik didn't think he could. He would just have to trust that Viktor knew him well enough. With a sigh, Flik reached for the box.

When he opened it Flik was unsure if he should be angry or laugh. Resting on a bed of red velvet in the box was a beautifully crafted dagger, brushed nickel from the look of it, with a double-edged blade. The hilt was nickel as well, though scenes from a hunt had been etched into it. A red jewel served as the pommel.

Viktor's expression hadn't changed -- it was still as guileless as before. So obviously, the man had no idea what daggers like this were used for in the Warrior's Village.

"So what to you think?" Viktor asked, studying the other man's face. Flik returned the smile, though it felt a bit wooden to him. "It's an excellent piece," he replied. He removed the dagger and balanced it between the blade and hilt. "Perfectly balanced, too. It must have cost a fortune."

Viktor shrugged. "What else do I have to spend my money on?" Flik replaced the weapon in its bed of fine cloth.

"Thank you," Flik said, though he couldn't quite meet the other man's eyes. "It's beautiful." Viktor smiled happily. Before Flik closed the box, however, he asked, "did anyone tell you to get this for me?"

"I thought it up. Is something wrong?"

"No, no, not at all!" Flik hastily denied. He shut the box. "It's just that -- No, never mind."

Viktor looked at him oddly, but Flik played it off by continuing to show his gratitude and then carefully steering the conversation to a safer topic. The dagger disturbed him, and he still wasn't quite sure how he should take it. It was almost too perfect to be a coincidence, and yet, how could it be otherwise? It just didn't make sense.

__

How would Viktor know that giving a dagger away was basically a marriage proposal in the Warrior's Village?

++

"So what are you doing tonight? Are you... _celebrating?_" Tengaar's girlishly high voice rose to a squeal with her last question, making Flik's teeth set on edge and his hands to curl into tight fists. The girl danced around him as he drank his beer and he vaguely wondered why an eighteen-year-old was allowed in the bar, anyway. It was a good thing for Tengaar that she kept moving -- if she had been stationary Flik would have clobbered her long ago, despite the tens of witnesses in the room.

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Tengaar," Flik said into his mug, finishing off the last of the beer. "Why, and with whom would I be celebrating?" He kept his gaze straight ahead, though it became hard for him to block her out once she had placed her hands on her hips and kept steadfastly in his line of sight.

"Don't play dumb with me, Flik." Tengaar commanded. In that instant Flik began to feel truly sorry for Hix -- he was stronger than he looked to deal with this day in and day out. "You know perfectly well what today is," the girl continued. Flik expected her to start stamping her foot at any minute, but then suddenly she quirked her eyebrow suggestively. "And who's waiting for you upstairs, eh?"

"You suggested the dagger, didn't you?" Tengaar's smile widened. Flik turned on the stool, ready to leave. 

"Actually, I just encouraged the idea. He came up with it." The girl moved to leave the bar. "What a strange coincidence. Are you going to accept it?" Tengaar stood in the doorway, her arms resting on either side of the jam. "Well, good night, Flik, either way, I'm sure that it will be a very happy birthday for you." Tengaar disappeared around the corner before Flik had a chance to do her any real harm. He cursed his bad luck.

After a few moments when he knew Tengaar wouldn't be coming back, Flik sighed. He didn't really hate the girl; she was just nosy where he was a very private person. Their personalities clashed, but not in the same way that his and Viktor's did. It didn't help that Flik had known her from a small child and that she knew things about him he'd thought he'd left behind in the Warrior's Village years ago.

That dagger was still sitting on top of his dresser where he'd put it yesterday. The gift, regardless of the good intentions, had come with some very upsetting thoughts. Thoughts about things he never got to do with Odessa and things he couldn't do with Viktor... thoughts of the future he'd planned out from childhood vanishing into dust. A wife, children... those were all things that he could no longer possess, but when he thought about it, Flik wasn't sure whether he regretted it. It was hard to say, now that he was older, if he resented the loss of that idealistic dream. Were things better now than what he had dreamed up for himself all those years ago?

Flik was the last male of his family. His name would die with him. Was he sorry? No, Flik thought, that wasn't the right question to be asking. _Did he have any regrets? If he had the chance, would he do it differently?_ That was what he should have been asking. Right now, he didn't really know the answer to the question.

Flik took a longer way back to his room than he usually did. Mostly everyone was on his or her way to bed and he waved to most everyone as he passed by. Flik saw that the door to his room was ajar when he approached it, which was fairly unusual. He stepped into the warmth of the room and closed the door behind him. Viktor was standing at the dresser and didn't look up when he greeted Flik. He was studying the dagger in its case.

When Flik sat down on the bed Viktor looked up, moving away from the weapon with a smile on his face. Flik thought he saw something flash in the taller man's eyes as their gaze met, but it was gone before he could identify it. Flik was immediately suspicious. One thin, dark eyebrow rose.

"What's that look for?" Viktor asked, feigning innocence, but not very well. Flik slowly sat back on the bed, crossing his arms over his chest. With an unreadable look in his eye, Flik said, "Bring that dagger over here, would you?" Saying nothing, Viktor complied, placing the box beside the smaller man on the bed.

"When you gave me this, you knew exactly how I would receive it," Flik stated, eyes drifting lower to study the blade. His fingers lighted over it for a moment before returning to their previous position on his chest. His eyes rose to meet Viktor's once again. The larger man joined him on the bed; it made him uncomfortable to be looking down at Flik as he was. "And how would that be?" countered Viktor.

Flik snorted. It was ridiculous how bad a liar Viktor was. "Give it up, Viktor," Flik said. The other held on to his naive charade for a moment before sighing dramatically. "Well, I thought it would be funny," Viktor said, holding up his hands.

"How'd you know that a dagger is a marriage proposal?" The blue-eyed man asked, neither frowning nor smiling. It was Viktor's turn to snort and roll his eyes. "I've been around for a while," he replied. Flik stared at him unblinkingly.

"You're five years older than I am." Flik said, clearly not impressed. Viktor turned to him and said, "I left home when you were fourteen. Five years makes more difference than you think. Besides, do you think that it was some big secret of the Warrior's Village?" Flik scowled and looked away from him -- he hated it when Viktor was right.

"But," the larger man continued, "I've never seen the actual ceremony performed before." This caught Flik's attention, suddenly reminding him of the only wedding he'd ever seen: his parents'. Born out of wedlock, Flik had watched his parents get married when he was six years old. About the only thing he remembered from the experience was his mother's deep red dress. Of course, later on, the whole process was explained to him as it was to every young person in the Warrior's Village.

At this point, Flik saw his evening finishing out in one of two ways: in one he accepted the proposal, joke or not, and pleased Viktor and Tengaar, but in doing so, sealed his fate forever. In the other, he refused, stuffed the dagger in some drawer and continued his life like he had never seen it. Life with Viktor, or instability? Him, or himself? Warm or cold bed?

Inwardly, Flik sighed. Why did Viktor always trap him like this? Flik looked up, examining the other's face. It was then that he realized that either way, he'd be stuck with this man for life. Might as well make it official.

"First of all," Flik began, lifting the dagger from the case and letting his rest easily between his fingers, "you can't force someone to do it. It has to be a mutual decision." Flik met Viktor's eyes for a brief second before dropping them back to the blade.

"All right," Viktor said, immediately catching on. He smiled widely.

Flik cleared his throat. Gingerly, he reached out with the hand that wasn't holding the dagger and took Viktor's hand. "Then, the person who was offered the dagger would mark the other." Without much more warning than that, Flik drew a long line under the sword calluses at the top of Viktor's palm with the dagger.

"Ow!" Viktor yelped, jerking his hand away, and in doing so, smattered blood on the top cover of the bed. "You could have told me you were going to do that!"

"Don't be a baby, it wasn't that deep," Flik chided. "Now," he said, offering the dagger to him, "you can do it to me." Viktor looked at it warily. "How am I supposed to do that if my hand has been hacked up?"

"That's why it's better to receive than to give, I guess," the smaller man said, shrugging. Viktor smothered a laugh and gave Flik a look. "You would say that," he joked.

"Shut up," Flik snapped, realizing what he'd just said. Thrusting his right hand at Viktor, he said, "Just do it, would you?"

Viktor, sobering but still smiling to himself, took Flik's right hand in his already bloody left. With one quick motion, he produced a replica laceration on Flik's palm. "What now?" Viktor asked. Wincing, Flik twisted his wrist, placing the two wounds together. Although his fingers were beginning to go numb, Flik locked his hand with Viktor's.

"At this point, one of us would spout some romantic poetic drivel." Flik said. "Like 'I'll never leave you,' or something equally stupid." He frowned at the mess they were making on the bed. Blood dripped from their hands into the mattress, and already it had soaked through the sheets. The maid or whoever came in to clean up was going to think that they were killing each other.

"I think that I can do better than that," Viktor laughed. "What about, 'As long as blood flows through this weary body, it shall belong to you.'" 

"Nice." Flik said sarcastically. "I didn't know you had it in you." Viktor shrugged, saying, "You never give me a chance to be romantic, Flik."

"There's a reason," he muttered darkly. Viktor only smiled in response. "After the vows part," Flik said, ignoring the other man's cheerful countenance, "you would seal the union." 

"How's that?" Viktor asked. Flik half-smiled. "How do you think?" He replied. Flik placed the hand that wasn't clutching Viktor's on the man's face, and, leaning forward, kissed him. Flik's expression softened slightly as Viktor deepened the kiss, the force of it bruising his lips. Pulling away, they stared at each other for several long moments.

Suddenly Viktor's face broke into a sunny smile. "Does this mean you're my bride, Flik?" Flik's expression darkened. Pulling his stinging right hand away, he growled, "No, it means that I can kill you with that blade if you sleep with anyone but me."

"What? I don't remember promising anything like that!" Viktor said, alarmed, though there was a hint of laughter in his voice. Flik got up from the bed to a small basin of water on the wash stand. He dipped his hand in the liquid, staining the clear water bright pink.

With a smile of his own he looked up from the cut. "I thought you knew everything about everywhere, Viktor. Including all the unwritten and unsaid vows that go along with that ceremony. After all, you have been around ever so much longer than I have."

"What else did I agree to, just now?" Viktor followed the other man across the room to clean his own wound. By the time they were done, the water was red like wine. Flik shrugged, retrieving gauze to dress the cuts. "A little of this, a little of that. Just don't do anything that would make me have to kill you, and you'll be fine."

"Thanks for the advice." Viktor took the medical supplies away from Flik and bound the smaller man's hand. When he was done, Flik, in turn, did the same for him, the man's slim, capable hands lingering on Viktor's forearm as he did so. Viktor found it endearing the careful and almost soothing way Flik took care of him. Not, of course, that he would ever tell the other man that.

"That, what we did there... that was for real, wasn't it?" Viktor asked, although he already knew the answer. He needed to be assured -- he needed Flik to say it so that he couldn't take it back later. Slowly Flik nodded. "But if you ever tell anyone, I'll hurt you."

Viktor laughed, the sound filling the room. He hadn't expected any less of Flik. Honestly, he hadn't expected the other man to admit they'd done it at all, even to him. With his uninjured hand, Viktor traced the smooth line of Flik's jaw. Flik looked at him oddly for a moment, before letting himself enjoy it.

"I'm glad..." Flik murmured suddenly. "I'm glad that it turned out this way." He leaned into the touch, slightly, savoring the other man's closeness, before moving away to replace the gauze.

"Me too." Viktor agreed quietly. 

He turned back to the bed, fully prepared to shed his clothing and dispense with the night's activities, when he noticed the large splotch of blood on the sheets. "What are we going to do about the bed?" He asked Flik's turned back.

"What about mine? We never use it anyway." Viktor smiled, remembering the forgotten piece of furniture, and was immensely grateful for it. "So, are you ready to consummate this marriage or what?" Viktor exclaimed brashly.

"Don't ever say that," Flik commanded, but he was already taking off his clothes and smiling. Joining Viktor on the neatly made bed, he wasted no time in doing just that.

++

Tengaar sat at the bar, idly drumming her fingers on the tabletop. It was noon already; usually she had seen Flik or Viktor around somewhere by now. At least they should have stopped in for something to eat -- but she'd seen neither heads nor tails of them since the day began. She was dying of curiosity... she wondered how the whole thing had played out. Had Flik accepted or refused the offer? Were they still together, if he hadn't? Had they made it a _happy_ birthday? Her mind was so full of questions she thought she might burst.

So wrapped up was she in imagining all the possibilities, Tengaar missed the door opening and two figures coming in. She didn't notice them until they stopped right beside her and ordered.

"Good day! Viktor, Flik!" Tengaar beamed, seeing Flik's bleary eyes slowly turn her way.

"Tengaar," he said, and turned away. Viktor chuckled. "Don't mind him, he just woke up."

"Oh... oh!" She cried out. "Up late last night, were you?"

"Yes, we were -- " Viktor replied. Flik shot him an evil dark glare from where he was standing. " -- planning strategies on which way to best infiltrate L'Renouille!" Viktor completed his thought. Tengaar seemed extremely disappointed, her eyes downcast.

It was then that she noticed the thin bandages both Flik and Viktor wore on their hands. A wicked grin spreading on her young face, she said, "Planning strategies, is that what they call it?"

"What do you mean -- " Flik started, finally breaking into the conversation, but the girl had already scampered away. He scowled after her. "One of these days she isn't going to be moving so fast, and..." Flik let his thought trail off. Viktor rolled his eyes.

"Sure," Viktor agreed jokingly. "You wouldn't hurt her if your life depended on it."

"She doesn't have to know that," Flik grumbled, knowing that she already did. He sighed, rolling his eyes heavenward. Their gaze met -- tired blue eyes meeting laughing black ones, and suddenly Flik couldn't help the smile that was pulling at his own lips. So this is the way it will be, Flik thought. But it wasn't such a bad way for things to turn out...

Not at all.

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THE END

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AUTHOR: Agh! Wasn't that just BAD? I think I have cavities now... this isn't like my other work at all... I hope people don't hate me now. 


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